April Showers Bring May Flowers
by A Kugelschreiber
Summary: Matthew is the new secretary of business tycoon Francis Bonnefoy. Arthur Kirkland is Francis's no.1 enemy and a whole lot more. And Matthew soon learns the Manhattan mafia is something no one should get caught in.FrUK/Franada/USUK/AmeCan
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey guys! So regardless of the pairings mentioned above, this story is a Franada/FrUK/UKUS/ AmeCan story. Yeah that's how much drama there is. So hope you enjoy it!**

Matthew was having a very excellent day. Matthew always had great days since his nature permitted him to be completely oblivious to anything that would cause one to have a bad mood, but this day was particularly different. Because today, he had finally acquired the job he had always wanted. Well, not exactly what he always wanted, but a job nonetheless. No more living off of Alfred in his dusty old apartment in Brooklyn. He could officially live in downtown Manhattan.

Granted, his new job wasn't exactly ideal but Matthew was quite adjustable to most circumstances. So when he received news that his resume was most adequate and that he was the perfect candidate to be the secretary for a very big business man, Matthew was delighted.

And today was also the day when he would finally meet his new boss. As a child, Matthew had always pictured working under a very good natured boss who he could rely on completely and could invite him over to dinner from time to time. At least, that's what happened in the soap operas. So you could imagine his nervousness and excitement as he stepped into the grand glass elevator and pressed the button to go to the 82nd floor- the highest in the building.

Unfortunately, 82 floors was a long distance to cover and no amount of impatient foot tapping was making the smooth elevator go any faster so Matthew took to the scenery below. The smoky Manhattan landscape was captivating with the many peaks of skyscrapers that all seemed to tickle the marmalade sun. The teeming traffic below only became smaller and smaller, much to Matthew's amusement. He'd never been up so high before since most of his life had been spent on second floor apartments with nasty neighbors.

A startling _Ding!_ pulled him out of his daydreams as the doors of the elevator opened, revealing a wonderfully lit hallway with caramel walls and a lush velvet red carpet, which was so soft, Matthew could feel his foot sink into it. Clearly someone had expensive taste.

Straightening his tie and pulling back his shoulders, Matthew drew in a deep breath and made his way to the giant mahogany reception desk which seemed to be guarding the hallway that led to two exquisite crystalline doors-behinds which, Matthew knew, sat his new-and first- boss.

"E-excuse me," he stuttered slightly to the admittedly attractive lady sitting in front of the computer. Her nametag read Elizabeta Hedervary**. **It was pretty.

She looked up from the stack of paperwork in front of her and peered at him with kind eyes.

"Yes?"

"Um, I was hired as a new secretary?" Matthew replied, silently cursing himself at how he had already lost some of his confidence. "I was told to start today."

Ms. Hedervary's eyes glowed with recognition as she quickly wheeled around in her chair and started grabbing papers and a clipboard. She then stood up and held out her hand.

"Yes! You must be Matthew Williams! Welcome to Bonnefoy Industries," she exclaimed as she handed what was in her hands to Matthew. She then pointed behind her desk and towards the crystal doors. "You'll find Mr. Bonnefoy in there. But you may have to wait for a minute. I believe he currently has a visitor."

Matthew nodded and smiled, glad for the very warm welcome. "Thank you so much miss."

Ms. Hedervary chuckled and winked. "No problem. And if you ever need any help, just come ask me."

"I'll be sure to remember that. Thanks!"

Matthew turned towards the crystal doors and started to walk towards them.

"Oh and Mr. Williams!" he heard Ms. Hedervary call from behind them.

"Yes?" he asked, pushing his glasses up his nose and looking over his shoulder.

Ms. Hedervary smiled the kindest smile Matthew had ever seen. "I hope you stay for a long while. It's been a while since Mr. Bonnefoy had a long term secretary. And you seem very sweet."

Matthew couldn't help but blush a little at her last comment and he uttered a final thank you before pondering the rest of her statement. A while since a long term secretary huh? Matthew peered at the beautiful doors through his glasses as he approached them nervously. What kind of man sat behind those doors?

He stopped when he was about an inch from the doors and held his hand up to knock when his action was interrupted by two faint yet clearly upset voices. Matthew was aware that eavesdropping was extremely rude, but it was his guilty pleasure and he couldn't stop himself from pressing his ear to the doors.

"I can't believe you Francis! We were supposed to be in it together! Do you know how much money I've lost in this deal! You friggin sold me out you wanker!"

The voice was slightly garbled and had a distinct British accent. His voice held such discontent and disgust that Matthew knew if he was the one receiving those insults, he would have curled into a corner.

"I did not sell you out Arthur. The loss is unfortunate but it has nothing to do with me. I swear."

This voice was solemn, sober and definitely French. This voice also, Matthew deduced, was the voice of his boss Francis Bonnefoy.

"Like I'm going to believe that!" spat the English one, Arthur. "Your words are always empty promises and they never mean anything. I can't believe I trusted you with this! I can't believe I trusted you at all!"

"Arthur, you are bringing other matters into this and being irrational. Lay off the wine and go home."

Matthew heard a few more extremely hurtful insults before he realized that angry footsteps were heading towards the doors. However, it was a bit too late and before he knew it, the doors had opened inwards and he was facing a very angry and equally handsome Englishman. For a second, in all the confusion, Arthur blinked back his anger and looked curiously at the slightly shaking Matthew. Then he sneered and glanced back over his shoulder.

"Looks like you've got another prey, Francis."

Matthew heard the other man slam his hand on his desk.

"Arthur!"

Arthur plastered a look of disgust on his face and finally stomped down the hallway and past the mahogany desk towards the elevators. A startled Matthew watched him walk away and then turned to face the man left in the room.

Francis Bonnefoy was leaning on his desk, a mixture of sadness and anger painted on his fair face. He then sighed and pulled his silky, blonde hair behind his ears, revealing ocean blue eyes that were filled with regret. For a moment, he didn't seem to notice Matthew for faint traces of Arthur's departure still played in his eyes. And then his blue met Matthew's gray. Drawing in a large sigh, he sat back down in his chair and replaced his remorse with a cheerful and eloquent smile.

"Bienvenue!" he greeted Matthew, motioning for him to take a seat in the leather chair across his desk. "You must be Mattieu."

Matthew nodded slowly as he hastily sat in plush chair- he quite liked how his name sounded in a French accent- trying to act as if he hadn't seen anything. Trying to act as if he couldn't see behind that false smile.

"Yes. It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Bonnefoy."

**Really hope you liked the first chapter. I know a lot didn't happen but it's an introduction. But Umm yeah just review. I kinda need to know whether the story should end up with FrUK or Franada because I'm honestly torn in two. Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay so I could barely contain myself and just had to finish the second chapter today. I really hope I can keep this pace up. Thanks to those who reviewed/alerted. It means a lot. Um, this chapter is almost like a filler chapter. Just enjoy!**

**Chapter 2: Slumbering Vulnerability**

If there was anything that would ever come to annoy Matthew, it would be the phrase, "Would you bring me more wine, mon cher". He heard it at least 4 times a day. It didn't make him angry that he was also Francis Bonnefoy's errand boy. In fact, he rather enjoyed being so busy. His mind just became really tired of hearing those same 8 words, the same 8 syllables over and over again. It had almost come to the point where Matthew knew exactly when Francis was calling him for wine.

That was another oddity about Mr. Bonnefoy. He always insisted upon being called by his first name, claiming that last names were so inelegant. Unless you could pronounce the word "monsieur" correctly. It took Matthew about 2 weeks to get used to calling him Francis. Every time the title "Mr. Bonnefoy" escaped his lips, the Frenchman would stop whatever it was he was doing, look him directly in the eye and softly say,

"I shall not have wine until you call me Francis."

Matthew eventually learned that was no empty threat. Francis without wine was like a heroin addict without heroin. It was a terrible sight and the soft material that made Matthew's heart wouldn't allow such a torture to befall his boss. So he forced himself to acknowledge his boss as Francis.

Matthew's daily routine was simple. He'd wake up early in the morning and take a quick, cold shower to wake himself up. After grabbing a cup of coffee, he'd head straight for the work. Upon reaching the 82nd floor, he'd trash his cup of coffee and slide past the giant mahogany desk- which usually would be empty since Elizabeta didn't come to work until around 8:00- and enter through the gorgeous crystalline doors through which the pale sunlight from the inside of the room could be seen. Matthew's office was situated inside Francis's office so he'd often cross paths with Francis- who always seemed to be present no matter how early Matthew arrived- before taking out his keys and entering his workspace.

And then he'd see a large pile of pancakes and a jug of maple syrup sitting on top of his polished cherry desk.

Pancakes were his favorite thing to indulge in for breakfast and for some reason, Francis always took the liberty to get him some before he arrived at work. The first time this had happened, Matthew had been quick to down the entire plate and all the syrup before questioning its mysterious appearance. It wasn't until after he had forked his last bite that Francis appeared in his doorway, hosting a gorgeous movie star grin. It had taken a while for Matthew to realize that it had been his boss who had brought him the pancakes and from then on, no matter how much Matthew urged that it was really unnecessary, he just received more and more pancakes.

Francis claimed it was because he valued his employment.

From then onwards, the day was simply a regular work day. Matthew would fill out paperwork and have Francis sign it. He'd keep track of his schedule and announce the times of important meetings and run to the wine storage every hour or so.

Today was no exception. It was merely a regular Tuesday morning and the sun had just begun to poke through the blanket of gray clouds as Matthew rode up the glass elevator. He finished his last bit of Starbucks coffee, pushed up his glasses and straightened his tie as the familiar _Ding!_ announced his arrival on the 82nd floor.

Matthew strode towards the crystalline doors, pausing only to draw a little smiley face on Elizabeta's post-it notepad for when she came, and entered Francis's office.

The customary "Good Morning" was about to slip out of his mouth when he was met with an unfamiliar sight.

Instead of a cheery Frenchman sitting at his desk doodling away or drinking wine, Matthew was confronted with a slumbering figure. Francis's head lay buried in his arms on the desk, his shining hair falling into his eyes. His shoulders had lost their usual confident composure and Matthew could tell he was fast asleep. The uncanny weight of stress could be seen in the bags under his eyes and Matthew wondered how much rest his boss actually received every night.

Smiling at how the sleeping Francis was almost approaching adorable, the young secretary quietly tiptoed over to his office, but not without subtly petting Francis's hair -he'd wanted to do that for a long time because it seemed so soft. After removing his coat and setting his things down, he strolled back over to Francis's desk where a bottle of 1952 Bordeaux wine sat next to a glistening wine glass. His practiced fingers picked up the bottle and poured the deep red drink into the goblet to the level of Francis's liking. And, as an unconscious habit, Matthew picked up a post-it, drew a smiley face, and stuck it onto the glass. Now he was satisfied and could get on with his work.

It was two hours later when he finally heard the rustling of papers and the familiar grunting of someone getting up in the morning.

Matthew remained in his chair, deciding to provide Francis with a few minutes of waking-up-privacy, and started to doodle to keep himself busy.

"Did you draw this?"

Hearing a strong French accent in the middle of New York always made him jump. Especially Francis Bonnefoy's. Matthew turned his head to see the blonde man leaning against the frame of his doorway, wine glass in one hand and the post-it-smiley-face in the other. He wore somewhat of an amused expression that immediately brought a blush to Matthew's face. The smiley face post-it-note was a stupid idea.

"Um, y-yeah. It was me. Sorry about that, sir," he mumbled.

Francis let out a tired _hon hon hon_ and smiled. "Je pense que c'est tres adorable. Je l'adore."

Matthew couldn't help but blush a bit, glad that he didn't seem like a total dork when his stomach chose to growl as loud as it possibly could in the silence.

The flustered brunette glared down at his stomach and then back up at his boss, laughing nervously.

The Frenchman let out a hearty laugh. "I see I forgot to get you pancakes today. Je suis desolee. My night turned out to be quite busy. "

Matthew silently cursed the fact that he had begun to rely so heavily on having breakfast at work. However, there was no way he was admitting that.

"Oh, i-it's not that!" he stammered. "I'm just… g-gassy?"

_Goddammit Matthew. Could you sink any lower? Gassy? _

The look on Francis's face was of one who was trying to stop a waterfall of laughter. His cheeks had puffed up and the hand with the post-it was covering his mouth. Unfortunately for Matthew, the older man was terrible at containing his emotions for he immediately burst out laughing, like a deep bell ringing, and he nearly spilled his wine glass.

The secretary cast his eyes down at the floor and his glasses slipped down his nose, the terrible feeling in his gut rising. Why was he so bad at speaking other people. Why could he never say anything clever like Alfred would have? Why did his damn stomach have to make a fuss at such a time? Why the freakin hell did Francis have to recover from his sleepiness so quickly?

Basically the whole day was now ruined.

**Time Lapse-**

It was nearly 6:30 pm and the sun had begun to sneak back into the horizon. Matthew sighed for the millionth time into his hands, fogging up his glasses. He had spent the entire day avoiding his boss's gaze. He had made a fool of himself and no matter how much Elizabeta tried to cheer him up during lunch, the depressing feeling of foolishness never left him.

He was just about to gather his stuff together and head home when a faint knock on his door caught his attention. Matthew sighed. He really wasn't in the mood for meeting anybody at the moment, yet he made his way to the door and pulled it open.

"Mist- I mean Francis?," Matthew questioned as he found himself face to face with the Frenchman, though he was careful to avoid his imploring gaze.

Francis's eyes wandered around Matthew's office. "Ah you were about to leave. I caught you at a good time then."

"Um yeah. Did you need something sir?" the young secretary mumbled. "I really don't mind running a few more errands."

Francis turned his gaze back to Matthew and he blinked in surprise.

"I didn't come here to ask you for any errands."

"Oh."

"Actually," Francis started sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "I wanted to apologize for this morning. I realized that I may have been a bit hard on your feelings. Especially since you seem the sensitive and insecure ty- ah! I really do say too much sometimes. "

"Oh that really isn't a problem!" Matthew stammered, surprised at the sudden apology. "I mean, I'm fine! You really don't need to apologize."

"Phew!" Francis let out, grinning. "Your cute depressed face was bothering me the entire day. Now that I've gotten that off my chest, I have to ask: do you have any previous engagements for the next week or so?"

Matthew raised his eyebrows, curious as to why his boss was asking him if he was doing anything next week. Regardless, he mentally ran through his essentially empty schedule and replied,

"No not really. Why?"

"Well," Francis said, examining his nails, "you see, I am an avid fan of horse racing. And next week I will be traveling to Cape Town, South Africa to bet on a few horses I own. Of course it would be disgraceful to go alone. And I also need someone to keep track of the odds and the money while I'm there. Would you like to come?"

South Africa. Halfway across the world. The furthest Matthew had ever traveled from his home was 10 miles. The offer was literally calling to him.

"Of course sir! I'd be honored to accompany you!" he exclaimed, his depression suddenly lifting.

Francis grinned. "Well then, it's settled. You should get going now. Get a nice rest. And don't you dare show up here before 9:00 am, understand?"

Matthew couldn't help but let out a small laugh and nodded quickly. "Whatever you say boss."

The blonde man gave him a quick wink before he waltzed out of the doorway, leaving Matthew with a mixture of feelings that he couldn't comprehend.

That night, he'd lay in his bed, holding his customary pillow in his arms, the first genuine smile on his face in months.

**So hopefully that lived up to expectation. I'm still putting the pairings FrUK and Franada up for a toss up because they are like my two favorite ships. I'd really appreciate it if you reviewed, anonymous or not. Anything is accepted. I'll need the motivation since Spring Break is ending soon haha. Thanks!**


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